One week ago I put on the license plates to the first vehicle that I have ever bought, my dad’s 1978 Ford pickup.  The beige truck has a shifter a couple feet high, a clutch several inches off the ground, and rust on more than one part of the body; it’s old.

Concerned for my safety, my parents entrusted the car to a self proclaimed “dirty, rotten, rat bastard” to fix the truck for the road.  To say the least, the self-taught mechanic, our rat bastard, resurrected the dead.  He used an old license plate to patch a hole in the flooring.  He placed gorilla tape covered in brown paint to hide parts of the body where rust had eaten through the steel, and he replaced multiple parts.  In the end, the mechanic said the car runs on duck tape, twine, and the grace of god.

I’ve told many people about this beauty.  Generally I get the reaction, “Oh, you’ll fit right in where you’re teaching.”

After the truck was ready, my dad and I began the trip from Dillon, Colorado to  Cleveland, Mississippi headed toward the Teach For America Delta Institute.  When we left at 4:30am, it seemed like the truck was going to make it.  However, an hour and a half into the trip, a sequence of noises filled the truck: SCRRR, BANG, WHA?  I looked back toward the road and the muffler of the truck was bouncing on the highway.

We pulled over at the next gas station to look at the damage.  It seemed like we, the truck, my father, and I, would survive.  A neighborly gas pumping friend commented on the truck “Yup, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”

So why this story?  For the past 7 months I’ve been told about the people that I’m going to meet in the Mississippi Delta.  I’ve been told what they’ll act like, what they think like, and yes, what they’ll drive (cars like the Ford F-250).  I don’t know how many of these generalizations are true, and honestly, I hurt at the thought of some of these generalizations to be true.  If I had muffler problems every day, I know I would be a little distracted in a Chemistry class.  Although I’m thankful for my family and friends’ insight to whom I’m about to meet,  I guess I’m just ready to actually meet people and to see what it’s really like to teach in the Mississippi Delta through Teach for America.  I look forward to sharing the stories ahead.

By the way, my dad and I made it to Cleveland two days after the muffler incident without any other extremely crazy problems.  Did I mention the car’s name is Lucky?